Professor Potter
by Umodin
Summary: After the fop of a trial that Eustace Potter had to suffer through during the summer after his fourth year, Albus knew he couldn't trust a Ministry bureaucrat to be the Hogwarts Defense Professor. He didn't know who to ask, but in a fit of tragedy a new teacher became available, somebody that the Potters had been searching for for over a decade; their eldest son, Harry. OotP AU!
1. Prologue

**This is the prologue to what I hope to be an interesting series**

* * *

Albus Dumbledore had made many a mistake in his life. He cursed Gellert for spitting on their friendship and bringing war upon the wizarding world. He wept over how one of his own students, Tom Riddle, became the greatest Dark Lord in over three centuries. He looked in the mirror and only saw the murderer of his younger sister, Ariana.

And as he looked at the parcel of mail about to be strapped to the collar of a Hogwarts owl, he knew that he could finally fix one of his mistakes; Harry James Potter.

In the dalliance of James and Lily's time at Hogwarts, they, unintentionally of course, conceived the boy during the middling of their seventh year at the young age of seventeen. Hogwarts did not provide materials for a contraceptive potion at the time; the war required that all mandrake leaves, one of the main ingredients of the potion, be given to Saint Mungo's to be used medicinally. The pair had to be let out of Hogwarts early when Lily's stomach started to swell. They had a shotgun wedding, as the yanks would say; Lily was more reluctant than James but they did what they felt was best for the life they would bring into the world. He was born on the 31st of July in the year 1977 and both parents, young they may have been, were delighted.

At the time Albus thought that this was a happy accident. The elder Potters, Fleamont and Euphemia, were, while not the wealthiest of people, definitely comfortable enough to support their son, his wife and their newest grandson with relative ease.

Then that blasted prophecy came and ruined everything.

Sybill Trelawney wasn't what Albus would call a clever woman. Oh, he admired her beliefs and how heavily she kept to them, as well as her desire to teach and bring Divination back into the forefront of young ones minds. He had even done her a favor; she'd splinched herself in apparition to Hogsmeade and Albus allowed her interview take place in Aberforth's bar while reattaching her missing foot. Albus hadn't even intended to let Divination through, he wanted to replace the elective with Alchemy, and yet when she started talking she didn't stop.

 _Born as the seventh month dies…_

Harry was the only person that was born that late in July in his generation, and even still there were two more on the way. Young Neville Longbottom and Eustace Potter, Harry's younger brother, were both expected to be born in the later part of July. When they were born, both on the 30th of July in the year 1980, the plan came to fruition. It was obvious that with two people pertaining to the prophecy in one household that they become targets, so with a heavy heart Albus made a suggestion that haunted him for the rest of his life.

Hide Harry.

It was a fair thought at the time; Tom was going after any and everybody born at the end of July. Albus heard that Sabastian Lestrange, one of Tom's most loyal followers, had been slaughtered by Tom's werewolf enforcers simply because he was born on the 29th of July over sixty years ago. The plan was simple; Albus and Lily would set up blood wards based around Harry's connection to his maternal aunt, Petunia Dursley, which would keep any magical with ill intent far away from her home of Number 4 Privet Drive. Petunia was reluctant to agree, she did not care for magic whatsoever, and only the promise of a generous monthly stipend made her agree. Lily didn't have the heart to bring Harry to the Dursley's herself, she feared she couldn't go through with it if she did, so she slipped him a sleeping draught and Albus had offered to bring the boy to Privet Drive.

And every time he thought about it, it was like a stab in the gut.

Then it finally happened; Tom was defeated. Somehow, Eustace Potter at the tender age of one was able to banish the Dark Lord. Albus had the personal theory that it was through the sacrifice of Remus Lupin, the boys godfather, that it occurred, a sentiment that the Potters and Sirius Black all took to.

The Potters were ecstatic. They would finally be able to live with Harry once more. The day after, on November the 1st, the Lily and James along with Sirius Black and Albus himself went to the Dursley home with bright, hopeful smiles.

And then everything came crashing down.

The Dursley's were the absolute _worst_ sort of muggles Albus had ever seen; even worse than the boys that harmed his sister when she was seven. When the party of four learned that Harry wasn't even _there_ they immediately began a Legillimency assault on the muggles that left tears to their eyes.

 _They had been absolutely terrible Harry for the entire time he was there!_ The moment Albus had dropped him off they stuffed him in a stair cupboard and set him to chores most ten year old children would have difficulty with. Cooking, cleaning, gardening, and so on and so forth, and when he had trouble they didn't help, no that would be the simple thing; they hurt. It started simple; small smacks around and gruff explanations of how the chore was done. Then it escalated to the point of Petunia smacking him over the head with a cooking pan for burning the breakfast _he cooked!_

It was no wonder that when Harry accidentally spilled manure on his younger cousin during a gardening session that a bout of accidental magic came out. He apparated to Merlin knows where, leaving only part of an ear behind from a splinching.

Lily had given into her temper, and before Albus could stop her, not that he likely would have, she had transfigured the couple into a pair of pigs and shipped them off to a butcher while simultaneously sending their son, Dudley, to an orphanage with a compulsion tied to him so that a good family would adopt him in short notice.

Losing their firstborn was a hard pill to swallow, and the Potters reacted the same way they did in the war when they learned they were targets. Albus didn't know the details of where they moved to, all he knew was that it was in Wales somewhere and they didn't trust him, let alone _anyone_ with any more information on their location, and spent the majority of their remaining time and leftover finances looking for Harry in both the magical and muggle channels. They knew he was alive, his blood was bound to the Potter Tapestry and his named had never dulled in color.

And yet, as the years passed and nothing was found, their enthusiasm for looking for Harry had dulled. They still searched and if they found a lead they would go at it with fervor, but their spirits were drained. With the addition of a daughter born in early September of 1986, Albus believed her name was Aster, it was with a heavy heart the Potters found a new focus. All Albus knew for a fact was that they had gone to the continent and gotten a secondhand wand for Eustace to practice and train with on his seventh birthday.

And now here he was, looking at the owl in front of him that was eagerly waiting for a command. The letters for children that were marked at birth to attend Hogwarts were magick'd by the Book of Names onto a parchment that would always find its target unless that target was dead; and the Book of Names also marked whether those students were still alive; which Harry was, thankfully. Albus had no clue how the Book of Names did either of those things, but he was hopeful that the artifact would help him right a wrong that he wrought.

Reaching into his pocket, spelled to be able to hold much more than physically possible without feeling the weight, Albus pulled out a broomstick; A Nimbus 1700. He put the broom between his legs, his wand still in hand, and finally spoke to the owl.

"Take your letter and I will follow you on broomstick."

The owl hooted and shot up into the air. The parchment strapped to its neck glowed blue and began to pull the bird south.

Albus shot into the air after the owl, disillusioning his body with his wand and holstering it back onto his wrist in one quick motion.

He would find Harry Potter.

* * *

He'd flown for over four hours, past the Scottish Highlands that Hogwarts was settled into and over Loch Lomond. Over the coasts of the Firth of Clyde and even when so many kilometers away Albus couldn't help but shiver as he passed over Girven; Azkaban was located directly west of the town on an unmarked island. Almost half of his flight from then on was over the Irish Sea, and at one point Albus needed to apply a cushioning charm to his buttocks; he was not as young as he used to be.

It was here that the owl finally began to slow, and Albus was able to discern where the boy was.

The Isle of Man.

Located directly on the Irish Sea between Northern Ireland and the northern tip of England. It was a fairly large island, 572 kilometers in total size, and was infested with highlands, medieval castles and tourists.

It was also the dumping ground for the Ministry for Magic of a sort. The United Kingdom didn't have direct control over the land, instead it was noted as a Crown Dependent state, but the magical portion of it was an entirely different story.

Squibs of prominent families were sent to the Isle of Man; Molly Weasley's second cousin, Bartholomew Prewett was one such case, as was Argus Filch the caretaker of Hogwarts.

Children turned into werewolves were sent to the Isle of Man; most of the time at least. Remus Lupin was an exception because his parents hid his nature from the Ministry, and Albus was all too happy to enroll the boy to Hogwarts and prove that just because somebody was a werewolf didn't mean they shouldn't receive schooling.

Muggleborn boys and girls that weren't capable of paying for Hogwarts tuition were sent to the Isle of Man for schooling. Pureblooded students that were of the poorer sort, such as the Weasley's, had the option to pay for the schooling of their children bit by bit instead of all at once; a luxury the muggleborn crowd did not share. The official name for the school was Ellan Vannin Institute of Spellwork, and it was notoriously disliked by the Ministry due to its acceptance of any magical being that could use a wand or other form of magical foci. Not only were the poorer muggleborn children being schooled, so were mixedbloods, veela, werewolves and vampires. Albus was just glad that part of the Ministry charter was quite clear on that they couldn't influence magical institutions unless they had reason; such as the school having poor marks or needing a professor; neither of which did Ellan Vannin have issue with.

Albus dearly hoped that Harry was in the home of a muggle or magical family, and not associated with the other denizens of the Isle of Man. While he had no problems with other races, they were notoriously bad when it came to raising humans. Hagrid was one of the few half-giants that wasn't killed due to the negligence of his giant parent. Similarly, for him to be associated with the vampire covens or werewolf packs of the Isle meant that Harry had to _be_ one.

His musing was cut off as the owl made a sharp descent. Eyes twinkling happily, Albus followed post haste. They shot past Churchtown and began their descent near the base of Snaefell, the largest mountain on the Isle.

The owl came to a sharp dive and disappeared in an instant. Albus knew that there was magic involved, so he followed.

The feeling of his body crossing a set of wards caused gooseflesh to sprout over his arms, and upon taking in the sight of what the wards were hiding he couldn't help but goggle.

It was a house, half made of wood and half buried in the side of Snaefell. The wooden portion looked like a quaint little loghouse, but based on the wards Albus was sure that there was some magical tunneling inside the mountain. Not that that was frowned upon here; the Ellan Vannin Institute of Spellwork was located under the Douglas Bay and the only reason that students were able to survive in that underwater environment were due to wards that had to be powers monthly by the school's professors.

Albus landed at the front of the home, shrunk his broom and placed it in his pocket. Quickly putting on a scent freshening charm, since four hours of flight tended to leave an old man stinking something foul, Albus walked to the front door and knocked on a doorstopper.

There was a silence for just a moment and then came a set of cursing; Albus could clearly hear the sounds of footfalls making their way towards the door. The door swung open, revealing the face of a handsome and aging man. He had slicked grey hair, high cheekbones and narrowed golden eyes. He wore a simple black cloth robe. Albus recognized the man before him, though he remembered the eyes were hazel and he'd always presumed him to be dead.

"Sebastian Lestrange," Albus started, only to be cut off not a moment later.

"What the bloody hell do you want, Dumbledore? _How did you find me?!_ " Sebastian demanded, a harsh scowl on his face.

Albus was not the type of man to shuffle in his robes, not when he'd come this far. With a smile that some would call grandfatherly, Albus spoke as if he didn't hear the second question. "Why, I decided to follow an owl; it has been so long since I've personally been able to deliver a Hogwarts letter and I found myself reminiscent of the good old days."

The owl chose that moment to fly over to Albus' shoulder, the letter still attached to its collar. Albus genially untied it and presented it to the scowling man. Lestrange snatched the letter from his hands and looked it over; his narrowed eyes widening then thinning into slits.

"He's been missing for a time," Albus continued, ignoring Sebastian's quickly darkening mood. "And I thought it best to make sure there was nothing to keep him from receiving his letter."

There was a twitch in Sebastians eye, "He's not in."

But that was enough; Albus knew that Harry Potter truly was here. "I will wait however long it takes."

The two stared each other down, blue meeting gold, and with a grunt Sebastian opened the door further and walked inside. Albus took that as an invitation and followed the man inside. The inside of the home was similar to the Ravenclaw common room; a circular room with a firepit in the middle and chairs and couches and cushions of all manner surrounding it with walls of books and tomes and scrolls. Albus mused that Sebastian was emulating his Hogwarts years; he was a Ravenclaw whereas his wife and children were Slytherin.

He watched as Sebastian went to a bookshelf that had a set of drawers on it. He pulled at one of the drawers and dug his hand into the storage space; pulling out a small, white tube of sorts. He walked back to the door, put the tube to his mouth and blew. Albus couldn't hear anything, but Sebastian looked like he was having a small migraine as he continued to blow on the tube. Sebastian then returned the tube to the drawer, closed the drawer, and sank into a chair with a hand over his head.

"He'll be here in a moment." He said.

"What was that?" Albus asked, and he was truly curious. He knew what most magical objects were, even the most obscure ones, so for him to see something he'd never heard of was a treat.

"Dog whistle."

The front door banged open, and from it a wolf the size of a horse barreled in. Its fur was white as snow, its eyes that looked to be chipped from amber and it had a long tusked jaw that looked strong enough to snap an iron bar. It had a majestic air to it that had Albus' eyes bulging; he knew what this was. When a pair of werewolves that were both transformed under the light of the full moon mated, their offspring would not be a werewolf nor would it be a human, instead it would be this; a dire wolf. But what would a dire wolf, a magical rarity, be doing near this man?

The dire wolf bounded into the house and sat on its haunches right in front of Sebastian. The man offered a hand and began to stroke the wolf, earning a rumble of approval from the beast. Albus knew that just because a dire wolf couldn't speak didn't mean they weren't intelligent. They had the same sort of intelligence Fawkes had, in that they perfectly understood what others were saying and had a limited ability to respond in kind; through Legilimency.

Albus hoped that he would be able to have a conversation with the creature; never before had he seen a dire wolf before.

"Where did you find him?" Albus asked, only to receive a growl from the lumbering beast. "Err- Her?" The dire wolf nodded sharply and returned its attention to Sebastian.

"She's my daughter, Hedwig."

Albus found his eyes bulging, "I'm sorry, _what?!_ "

Sebastian sighed, "When the Dark Lord started hunting people born at the end of July, he didn't bother do it himself. No, he sent his hunters after us; Greybacks pack. I was able to escape by the skin of my neck but I was still bitten by the end of it." To further prove that, Sebastian lifted the hem of his robe to reveal a nasty scar on his calf.

Albus frowned, "Is that the reason you went into hiding?" Werewolves were largely oppressed in the wizarding world, and even when they were prominent purebloods prior to being bitten, the moment they were turned they lost any power and prestige they might have held in an instant.

Sebastian shrugged, still rubbing his hand through Hedwig's fur. "Partly," he admitted. "When I got bit I knew I wouldn't have a place in the wizarding world outside of being mocked, so I went into the muggle world; I knew enough from Muggle Studies and liberal use of Legilimency to get by. Things were fine for a few years, then everything changes. This kid apparates into my yard, which shouldn't have been possible since I warded that plot the using the same wardstone that I tied this one too, and just passed out with half his ear bleeding all over my garden."

Hedwig let out a deep bark of amusement which made Sebastian swat her nose, earning a yowl of displeasure. Albus didn't particularly care for their byplay, not when he had the first bit of news about Harry Potter in six years.

"I wasn't going to just leave the kid there, so I took him inside and healed him up as best I could. I didn't know much when it came to healing, the strongest spell I knew was Episkey, so I just blotted the ear with a muggle newspaper. The problem was that that day I was feeling especially weak-" the sound of heavy footfalls from the outside patio quickly silenced him.

"Well," Sebastian continued, sounding a mite contrite. "Best you see for yourself."

Albus needed no further encouragement and hopped to his feet and strode to the door. He hoped to finally see Harry Potter.

Instead, what he saw would keep him up for many a night.

The first thing Albus thought was _big._ It stood half a head taller that Rubeus Hagrid himself! It's fur was midnight black. Its devilishly clawed fingers were connected to a pair of large and powerful arms that seemed more like tree trunks than they did limbs. Its legs were thicker than its arms and they were warped, looking more like the lower half of a satyr with clawed feet instead of hooves. Its torso was muscled and defined and only adding to the powerful figure that Albus was seeing.

Its head and neck were absolutely massive; larger than the whole of Filius Flitwick. Razor sharp teeth lined in straight rows were covered in saliva and its nose was breathing heavily onto Albus' head, blowing his hair in all manner of direction. What truly astounded him were the eyes, a color of green so vivid he'd only seen them in one family; the Potters.

With a quick eye, Albus looked to the beasts ears. One was pointed and elfin, while the other was stunted and cut at the base.

"…Harry?"

The beast roared and _shrank._ There, looking right as rain, was a tall boy of eleven years with batch of cropped black hair and brilliant green eyes that could belong to only one person. He was clothed in a thick, hooded grey jacket, blue jeans and a pair of white trainers. The boy looked over Albus curiously, and Albus could see the resemblance. He looked quite a lot like James, though he didn't need glasses and he shared Lily's nose.

"Harry," Albus breathed out, and without warning enveloped the boy in a strong hug. Harry stiffened but did not push Albus away, nor did he respond in kind; he simply stood there, unsure of what to do. Albus let the boy go and rounded on Sebastian, a murderous expression on his face. "What did you _do_ to him?!"

"Bit him."

Albus inhale deeply and exhaled slowly, "You have five seconds to start talking."

Sebastian frowned, as did Harry from behind Albus, but did as the Mugwump bade; it was never a smart idea to have Albus Dumbledore well and truly pissed. "To continue where I left off…" Sebastian motioned for Albus to return inside, which he did with a protective arm around Harry's shoulders. Sebastian couldn't help but be amused by the frustrated expression on his wards face.

They took their seats, Sebastian took a chair and Albus took a couch and tried to get Harry to sit by him, but the child broke away and found a cushion on the floor. Hedwig bounded over to him and Harry began to scratch at her chin.

"As I was saying," Sebastian said. "I was feeling especially weak because the day he apparated on my lawn was the same day the full moon was to come out. I barely had enough time to put him up in my bed and bound down to my basement; the walls of the basement were coated in silver so that I couldn't get out and the door has a locking charm from the inside. I don't remember, but I was able to get it out of Harry. He woke up in a strange house with bandages over his head and ear, and as any child would be, he got curious. He started opening doors and looking around and eventually he found me; I didn't remember to add a second layer of locking charms so that he couldn't get in."

Sebastian looked terribly shamefaced about that, and Albus couldn't find fault in his tale. He turned to Harry, and flinched as the boy pulled on his jacket sleeve, revealing a truly nasty set of scars on his forearm.

"It was my fault and I owned up to it; I took him in as a ward. Brought him to Diagon Alley, went to Gringotts and had them determine who he was; he knew his name was Harry but didn't know his surname. The goblins took a bit of blood and checked if it matched any of their vaults, only to tell me he was the eldest Potter child. I would have just given him back to them, but the war was still going on and they were in hiding, so I just packed up. Took most of the gold and trinkets out of the vault and left with Harry."

Albus kept his face neutral, but he couldn't help but frown. "Why didn't you inform the Potters when the war ended?" He stole a glance at Harry and couldn't help but feel pity; the darkened expression on the boy's face was not a good sign.

"Couple reasons," Sebastian said, ignoring Harry's quickly worsening mood. "First, I didn't know where they were; they went off the map, remember? Nobody's been able to contact them aside from Sirius Black, and there's no way in hell I would try and contact that man; he'd sooner throw me in Azkaban for spawning my sons than he would listen to my story."

A sigh escaped Albus' mouth, but he could not refute that statement. At the time, Sirius was against everybody that was or had to do with the death eaters, including parents. Sebastian Lestrange was a former death eater himself, albeit one that didn't partake in raids due to his social status.

"Second, the kid was a werewolf now. I know that the Potters are fine with them due to Remus Lupin, but being friends with one and raising one are two entirely different things; werewolves need a pack and if he couldn't run with others it would have been like torture."

"James Potter is an Animagus, as are Lily Potter, and Sirius Black. James and Sirius would run with Remus when they went to school and while Lily didn't complete her Animagus until they were well into hiding she would have been able to aid." Albus quickly refuted.

Sebastian blinked, surprise overcoming his features, "Truly? What are their animals?"

"James is a stag, Sirius is a dog and Lily is a lynx."

"Huh…" Sebastian said. "Well, then there's only one reason. Still, it's a bloody good one. Now let me finish so you can get to your business and leave my house."

Albus nodded quickly, he too wanted to get the story set.

"Well, after I packed up the vault, I decided to settle here. I didn't think I could raise a werewolf properly, so I might as well bring him near a pack. They run the hills of Snaefell every full moon and have for over a century, undisturbed. I went back to my house, packed up my belongings and brought the wardstone from there to here. I explained to Harry as well as I could what was happening, and he was naturally scared; wouldn't stop sniffling. I let him dig through the trunk that held the valuables from Gringotts and keep one item if it would make him stop crying."

"I wasn't crying," Harry cut in, a mutinous look on his face.

"You were bawling like a babe," Sebastian shot back, and the mutinous look turned to outrage. Before Harry could leap at Sebastian, Hedwig tackled the boy onto the floor and began to lap at his face with her large tongue.

Albus watched the byplay with a small smile. He was glad to see that the boy was safe and able to play around like this.

Still...

"Sebastian, what happened to Harry?" A normal werewolf was a sickly thing when transformed. Harry's form, however, was massive and hulking. The form of a werewolf was connected to the full moon. Harry's form was not, the sun was still out and the full moon wasn't to occur for another nine days.

Harry's form wasn't just wrong, it wasn't _possible._ There had been extensive research done on the lycanthropy curse, Nicolas Flamel himself commandeered the project, and the only thing they were able to do was make the afflicted less reactive to silver, and even then it involved a highly expensive and painful ritual. What happened to Harry was such an impossibility that if anybody learned of his form… Albus wasn't certain, but he wouldn't put it past the Ministry to ship the boy off to the Department of Mysteries, giving the Unspeakables free reign to pick at the boy piece by piece until they learned whatever it was they wanted to learn.

Sebastian sighed, going through the pockets of his robe and pulling out his wand.

"Accio Harry's cup."

A cup flew into view and Sebastian caught it with his free hand. It was decorative, a silver cup with yellow gems on the front and a…

A badger was openly displayed on its back.

"The Cup of Helga Hufflepuff…" Albus said reverently, shock and awe on his face. He reached out in hopes of holding the founders treasured item, but Sebastian snatched it away.

"Turns out," Sebastian said, twirling the ancient cup around in such a manner that made Albus more than a little indignant. "One of my sons hid this in our vault, maybe my daughter-in-law, Bellatrix; don't know which and don't particularly care. This was the item Harry took from my chest. I didn't think much of it at the time, I just thought it was a ceremonial thing or a fake that my family made, and let him have it."

He shook his head, "We spent a month working the property, waiting till the next full moon. When it came, It was difficult to put it bluntly. The first transformation is always the hardest; the body's magic changes during it and certain physical features, such as the eyes, also go through a change; Harry's eyes had turned completely amber. Luckily the packs let us run with them; Hedwig was conceived that night."

Albus looked Harry in the eye and noted that, upon closer inspection, his green eyes had flecks of amber; the same color that Sebastian possessed.

"And then, just before the next full moon, the wolfsbane potion was announced. I didn't have anything to lose, so I bought a batch; it was ridiculously expensive since it was a newly developed potion. Harry, being the cheeky brat he was, drank his portion from the cup he took from my Gringotts chest."

Albus turned to Harry with wide eyes. The chalice of Helga Hufflepuff was so coveted because it was enchanted in such a way that any potion or elixir drunk from it would be enhanced. It was said that drinking a pepper-up potion using the artifact would keep a person awake for three days straight.

"I didn't know it was the real thing, but something else happened. Wolfsbane is a naturally yellow concoction, but when it touched the cup it turned black. Harry still drank it, fool that he was, and then let out a scream; the cup was possessed by something, _somebody_ , and latched onto Harry the moment the potion went down his throat. I am not certain as to the effect, but I like to think that what happened was that the soul that possessed the cup ran afoul with the wolf inside Harry and they duked it out in such a way that destroyed whatever possessed the cup and the wolf was destroyed."

"It wasn't destroyed, It's still there," Harry cut in. "The wolf I mean. It's just… It's like, instead of being the wild beast it used to be it became tame, and now only comes out when I want it to. Kind of like an Animagus, only instead of _wearing_ the skin of an animal I'm _sharing_ the skin of one."

Albus put a hand to his beard and stroked the hair in thought. An abnormality caused another abnormality; there truly were no limits to the wonder that was magic.

"And before you ask," Sebastion said, a hint of humor in his voice. "No, you may not have the chalice. Drinking wolfsbane from it makes it so I feel no pain from my transformation, and there is no way I'll give up a painless transformation just to make you look good."

Silently, Albus decided that the cup was Harry's to do with as he pleased, not Sebastian's.

He would ask the boy when he was older.

"Do you mind if I perform a test?" Albus asked Harry.

"What kind?"

"It's a charm to determine whether or not somebody is an Animagus, and then another to determine whether or not somebody is a werewolf."

"No need," Sebastian said. "I performed the spells myself when this whole thing started. The Animagus revealing charm, which turns red if there's an Animagus and blue if there isn't, turned purple. The werewolf revealing charm, which turns yellow if there's a werewolf and blue if not, turned green."

Albus scrunched a brow in thought. Colors only combined in the case of the Animagus revealing charm if the person in question was in the middle of becoming an Animagus; but Harry had never had the training and even if he had, he was too young physically to maintain the transformation.

"Uh, sir?" Harry asked, making Albus start as he was cut off from his musings. "Can I ask you a question?"

Shook himself out of his stupor; better to discern what the colors of the revealing charms meant at a different time. "But of course!"

"Who are you?"

Albus blinked once, twice, then thrice before letting out a full bellied laugh. "I never did tell you did I? No, I suppose not. I'm Albus Dumbledore, the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I came here to deliver your acceptance letter, if you lived here of course. Your parents will be quite happy to find you happy and whole."

Harry immediately let out a scowl, "I don't care about them."

Albus frowned, "They're your parents, and they've been looking for you for over half a decade."

"They gave me to the Dursley's to be treated like dirt, why should I care if they're looking for me? I bet they just want to stuff me back in that damned cupboard." Harry retorted viciously.

Albus found his frown deepening. Clearly the boy held the Potters quite low esteem.

"We will talk of the Potters another day," Albus decided. True, Sebastian Lestrange had raised the boy decently by the looks of it, but Albus didn't trust him with the details of how the Potters hid. The family was able to escape mentioning the fidelius charm when questioned, and he had no intention of giving such information to a death eater, reformed or not; Severus Snape didn't even know. "I came in hopes that you would attend Hogwarts."

Harry paused for a moment, his brow scrunched in thought, before slowly shaking his head negatively. "My parents'll be there the moment I'm sorted; I won't do it."

"I intended to send him to either Ellan Vannin or Durmstrang." Sebastian admitted after a moment of silence.

Albus felt his hopes shatter. Ellan Vannin was a logical choice, but it was closed off from the world at large and only bothered with its students; barely any outsiders were welcome. And the less said about Durmstrang the better. It would be terrible if Harry went to either institute; that would make it all the more difficult for the boy to meet the Potters.

And then, like a flash of lightning in the night sky, and idea came to mind, one that would at least keep Albus in the boys good graces and perhaps have Harry lean towards neutrality with his parents.

"Well," Albus said. "Maybe you won't go to Hogwarts, but what would you say to an apprenticeship?"

"With you!?" Harry asked, incredulous. Albus understood his incredulity; he'd never had an apprentice. Truly, Albus would love the chance to personally teach his crafts to an apprentice, but he didn't have the time for one, what with his having three full time jobs and all that rot.

"I'm afraid not, but I have a dear friend that I'm sure would be interested in teaching you. Sebastian, do you mind if I use your floo?"

Sebastian waved a hand, "The address is Snaecave."

* * *

"Truly a wonderful specimen." Said a rotund man with a combed patch of greying blonde hair and a close cropped beard. He was looking over Harry's werewolf form with untold fascination. Harry looked quite annoyed at the man, but learned that pushing him away only made him exam the arm of Harry's form.

It was truly vexing.

"So, what do you say? Will you take young Harry as an apprentice?" Albus asked, looking amused.

"Maybe not an apprentice, that will be determined after he's taught the basics, but I'll happily teach him through his NEWTs. He's _far_ too interesting to not keep close by, and children have always been a passion of Nelly's."

"Excellent! Thank you Nicolas, you won't regret this."

"No, I don't think I will."

It was surreal to Sebastian as he watched the two ancient men speak. His ward was going to be instructed by _Nicolas Flamel!_ The oldest man in the world and the foremost expert on all this alchemy, potions and rituals while his wife Perenelle was renowned as the best historian in all of Europe; primarily due to her documenting nearly everything of interest that has happened in the wizarding world over the last five centuries.

"Ah," Nicolas muttered. "But for my sake, I won't call Harry here a werewolf; the differences are far too great regardless of his origin… Mmmm…"

"Might I suggest something?" Sebastian asked.

"Of course, m'boy!" Nicolas replied jovially.

"I like to call him a Lycan." Sebastian admitted, a small amount of embarrassment in his voice.

"Mm... I like it. Though I wasn't born till many centuries after lycanthropy came around, Nelly and I like to believe that it was meant to be a way for the Celts to get closer to nature and was perverted into the curse we know now."

Albus smiled genially, pleased that things were going as he hoped. "I'll make my way out then."

"Ah, Albus m'boy?" Nicolas called out.

"Yes?"

"Do me a favor before you leave, swear to tell no one where Harry is."

"What?" Albus asked, incredulity in his tone of voice. He could _finally_ apologize to Lily and James with this bit of news, and yet Nicolas wanted him to swear to the secrecy of the boy's location?

"It's nothing personal, I had you swear an oath when you apprenticed under me to never let anybody know about our partnership until you completed your dues. Sebastian, if you wouldn't mind would you swear the same oath?"

"But-" Albus said, only to be cut off.

"This is nonnegotiable Albus." Nicolas said, his voice firm and hard and nothing like it had been earlier.

Sebastian offered a shrug, "It's not like I have anybody to tell aside from Hedwig, and I've a feeling she'll be over most of the time."

"The dire wolf you mentioned? Oh, do bring her over! The breed is so difficult to study; I've only seen fifteen in all my years."

The pair made their oaths in short time and Nicolas turned to Albus with an expectantly raised brow. Albus furrowed a brow and, after a moment of deliberation, exhaled in defeat and he too gave his oath.

Albus could only hope that when the chance came, Harry Potter would be willing to be with his family.

* * *

 **A/N: So… That happened. I really shouldn't be writing, I have to finish up this online class and the semester ends tomorrow, but I had this idea in my head and I couldn't finish my essay until I had it to paper.**

 **So, I had this thought. I was on google, looking at picture of the Underworld movies for no reason whatsoever, when I came upon the Super Lycan from Underworld Awakening. And right next to it was Remus Lupin's werewolf form and I was like "** _ **Alright, that's gunna be a story."**_

 **So, here's the premise. This is not a WBWL story, Harry is _not_ the BWL, but that doesn't mean he wasn't marked by the Dark Lord; his magic and werewolf forms were marked and cleansed by the soul of the Dark Lord that was housed in the Cup of Helga Hufflepuff. Before you ask, yes, he is a parselmouth, just as Eustace Potter will be.**

 **The Potters are alive and Remus Lupin was the sacrifice this time; I know some people like him but, personally, I'm not a fan of the character. I liked him well enough up until the Deathly Hallows and then his character was ruined for me. I think it's fair that if the Potters had two kids born at the end of July, and both were on Voldemort's shit list, they'd try to make sure** _ **one**_ **was protected through other means. The Blood Wards are over done, but Harry got out of there quick enough that they didn't even matter in the long run.  
**

 **I didn't specify where Sebastian Lestrange lived because that's a hassle. I was looking up so much detail for the Isle of Man that I didn't feel like looking through districts close to Surrey for the guy to live in.**

 **Hedwig in this case is not an owl. When I was on the HPwiki and was looking up werewolves I saw that if two transformed werewolves mate they produce these wolves that are unnaturally intelligent. I took it a step further and turned her into a dire wolf from the Warcraft movie; if you're curious as to what she looks like go to google and type in Warcraft Movie Dire Wolf; I based her off the wolf Durotan rides.**

 **Albus is not a bad guy, so no, I will not have him play master manipulator; dude's just trying to get some self-repentance. Harry doesn't like the Potters because they sent him to the Dursley's, and didn't bother to check up on him. What he doesn't know is that they sent letters all the time that Petunia was all too happy to destroy. Sebastian is an OC, obviously, but one that I hope has a little more depth.**

 **A~~~nd, Nicolas Flamel. I love the guy, he inspired my favorite anime (Full Metal Alchemist Brotherhood) so I** _ **have**_ **to bring him into the fold. He will be Harry's teacher and eventually he will be his master and Harry will become Nicolas' apprentice in turn. So, when Nicolas dies due to the Philosopher Stone being destroyed by Eustace Potter… Well, I'll let you figure out the response.**


	2. Professor Potter

**I give to you, a new chapter to peruse.**

* * *

Albus Dumbledore read the note in front of him with a scowl on his usually smiling face.

 _To Albus Dumbledore_

 _If a Defence Against the Dark Arts instructor is not found by the 15_ _th_ _of August, the position will go to my Undersecretary; Dolores Jane Umbridge. This is the decree of the Ministry, in accordance to the poor standing of the class over the past decade._

 _Cornelius Fudge,  
Minister for Magic_

Cornelius was such a _fool!_ Did he not understand what kind of woman his Undersecretary was? She was primarily responsible for the werewolf packs joining up with Voldemort the moment his return was brought to their attention. She had subjugated everything and everyone she considered lesser beings, regardless of whether or not they were werewolves, vampires, goblins and even muggleborns and the occasional halfblood.

Such a vile woman would be a terrible fit at Hogwarts. And yet, Albus didn't have an option. It was already the 13th of August and so far all those that Albus asked to teach had rejected him. Sadly, it was quite common for rejection to occur; most didn't want to risk their lives on Tom's curse of the position.

A groan escaped Albus' beard covered mouth; he should have expected something like this. With the sham trial that occurred just yesterday for Eustace Potter, where Cornelius tried to have the boy's wand snapped for performing a Patronus against a pair of Dementors that were somehow able to get past the wards of the Burrow when he was visiting the Weasley Twins. In the end, it was shown that Cornelius was a blustering fool and that, when Eustice said he was willing to take Veritaserum, he immediately withdrew his attempt.

His silent stewing of anger was interrupted by the road of his floo. He turned and looked at it, only to find surprise. It was a woman he had known since he was a boy; though she looked far older than he remembered. Her hair, which used to be a rich brown, was mottled in greys and whites, and her face, which seemed eternally youthful, was littered in wrinkles.

"Al…" She said, her tone quiet and somber.

"Perenelle?"

"It- It h-appened," she stuttered out. "Nic is dead." She sobbed out, any composure she had broke like a dam at that moment.

A beat of silence passed. Albus found tears welling in his eyes at the news, and they freely fell soon after. Albus had always regarded Nicolas as a favored uncle, and at times, he seemed more like a father that Albus' actual father did. The Immortal Alchemist he was called; and it had always been presumed that he would outlive Albus by a long margin.

The destruction of the Philosopher's Stone four years ago was a terrible blow. While Albus viewed the stone as wrong and immoral, he _never_ had the intention of destroying it; it was the only thing that kept Nicolas and Perenelle alive and he cared for them far more than he cared for his belief of right and wrong.

Albus blamed himself, and rightly so, for its destruction. He had gotten too used to immunity in Hogwarts, and allowed that to cloud his basic judgement. What a fool he had been, allowing the stone to be guarded by protections a competent second year could get passed; and when a trio of _first years_ were able to find the stone it truly became apparent how in the wrong Albus was. Albus remembered clearly the row that happened when he told Nicolas, and in turn when Harry heard. Harry had just finished the NEWT work he needed for Alchemy that December and Nicolas had accepted him as an apprentice. With the destruction of the stone, all the hard work he put into his studies to get to the point he was at became null and void.

It was difficult, having his former master and fellow apprentice so angered at him. Especially when they had every reason to be. The words exchanged on that day between the three kept Albus up at night.

"I- I had to let you know, you were the closest and oldest friend he had left. No matter what words were said when you told us of the stones destruction, never think you weren't."

"I understand, thank you."

Albus paused, a thought coming to him, "What of Harry?"

She sniffled through the floo, "He… was the one that found Nic. Set him up a funeral pyre and left for the house he inherited, Snaecave."

Albus nodded, "Would you like me to visit, Perenelle?" Though his schedule was filled, he would ignore the board meetings for the rest of the day to spend time with this woman on her last leg of life.

"That would be… Kind."

He took a batch of floo powder and tossed it into the fireplace.

" _Chateau Flamel!"_

The feeling of traveling through the floo had always been enjoyable to Albus. It was like a combination being wrapped in a blanket with no form and being pulled in a water current with no control; strange since floo travel was done through fire.

When he landed, he was able to take a proper look at Perenelle. She was aging right before his eyes; never had he seen her so weak. She was sat in a muggle wheelchair and looked to be falling asleep.

"Perenelle?" Albus asked, fearing the worst.

"I don't want to be here, Al." she said, closing her eyes ever so slowly. "Please roll me to the yard."

He rushed to her side, gripped the chair with whitened knuckles and pushed her through the halls of the chateau. They made their way over to the yard, where an effigy of Nicolas on a funeral pyre that wasn't yet lit was on display. The tears in his eyes were like river streams in that they gave out so much water as he looked upon the dead form of his mentor.

She spoke, her voice rasping slight and her head minutely nodding off, her arms falling into her lap, "I have lived with Nicolas for over six centuries; I do not intend to break that tradition."

The tears in her eyes were still afresh, just as Albus' were. "Nic and I have always known we would die; regardless of how long and hard we tried to halt the inevitable. Nobody lives forever."

"But you could live _longer!_ " Albus implored, shock and a terrible sadness in his voice. He just lost Nicolas today, he couldn't bear to lose her too. "I could fetch Fawkes. His tears would keep you afloat for a time."

There was no answer. Albus touched her face, only to break out into sobs as it slowly began to turn cold; the pulse of her heart was gone. He moved in front of the chair and pulled her body in a hug and let loose his anguish.

He wiped his face with the sleeve of his robe a few minutes later, they were puffy and red, and he pulled out his wand. Albus carefully levitated Perenelle on the same funeral pyre that Nicolas was situated on; he knew that the pair intended to be cremated.

He then turned looked around the open doored chateau, melancholy in the air. He could not make out any paint on the walls, for they were littered with magical portraits, all of who were silently weeping.

He walked the halls and tried to remember the many years of joy he felt in this place. He turned to the room he had been given during his apprenticeship many years ago and opened the door, wanting to think about the good years he had with the Flamels.

It was different. When Albus had used this room, it was bland save for the perch where Fawkes would roost on occasion; when the bird was Nicolas' companion and not his own. Fawkes had taken a strong liking to Albus, and after the apprenticeship ended the phoenix was his parting gift. Now though, now the room was a bloody mess. There were papers and parchments and books scattered haphazardly all over the floor and walls, all of them with written word or alchemic circles and formulas covering them, and the smell of musk and sweat permeated the room.

There were pictures in the windowsill, and from them Albus determined that this was Harry's room. One was of Hedwig, the snow white dire wolf looking as regal as ever as she slept in a grassy field with the sun on her fur. Another was of Sebastian, scowling at the camera that took him by surprise while he was reading a copy of the Daily Prophet. Then there was a picture of Harry himself, looking like he did when he was fourteen. Taking basic nutrition potions with the cup of Helga Hufflepuff had only helped the boy become quite large for his age, and now that the boy was eighteen Albus had no doubt that Harry was taller than he was. In the photograph Harry was shaking Nicolas' hand with a big, bright smile on his face and a badge on his chest, which Albus recognized as proof of apprenticeship; Perenelle had to have been the one to take this photo.

And finally, and most surprising, there was a picture of the Potters. Lily and James were behind Aster and Eustace, and each had a hand on the respective children's shoulder, the green eyes and black hair was a signature of the pair. All were smiling brightly. It was a page ripped from a Witch Weekly advert; a column talking about the family of the Boy-Who-Lived. Albus liked to think that this was a sign that Harry had forgiven them, but he wouldn't get his hopes up, not now. Now was the time for mourning, and Albus needed a shoulder to cry on; and he believed the shoulder he intended to use needed just the same thing

Albus strode out of the room and back into the living room. He grabbed a batch of floo powder, threw it in the fireplace and quietly but clearly spoke.

" _Snaecave!"_

* * *

The first thing Albus saw upon entering the circular sitting room of the Snaecave was the massive form of Hedwig. She was running around the room, grabbing book by book and rushing them to another room, pausing for a moment upon entering, and returning to get another book. When she caught sight of Albus, she gave a warbled sort of greeting, butted her head against his shoulder and then continued what she was doing.

With a small amount of confusion, Albus followed her into the room she kept entering. He'd never truly explored the Snaecave; Sebastian didn't like him at all, and Harry since lived with the Flamels Albus had no true reason to visit the house.

It was an office; likely it was Sebastians. Hedwig was dropping the books into an enlarged mokeskin pack at the center of the room. With a furrowed brow, and even more confusion, Albus left the room; intent to find Harry.

It wasn't a long search. Harry was in the kitchen only two rooms over. There were muggle cardboard boxes on the tables, filled with random items from all over the house, and Harry was in the room packing a set of china plates into one of the boxes. Clad in a green long sleeved shirt with a pair of grey sweat pants on, the lad looked surprisingly relaxed when he should have been distraught based on today's events.

He'd grown quite a lot from when he was eleven. At one point, Harry was a fairly scrawny boy on the shorter side, but now he seemed like a bear. He stood near two meters high, and his torso filled out his long sleeved shirt like it was too small. He grew out his hair, Albus noted; it was partially held up by a string of yarn in the back but the overall messy look was still apparent. There was even a small patch of stubble growing on the boy's face. Albus supposed the only thing that made Harry look his age was the face; he had what was commonly called a baby face and it looked more like a sixteen year olds face than it did an eighteen year olds.

"Harry." Albus called out.

The boy looked up, surprise etched on his face. "Albus," he said in a curt fashion. His face was quick to turn from surprise to calm, far calmer than Albus was at any rate.

The use of his first name was a permission Albus gave Harry a while ago. When Harry was admitted to being Nicolas' apprentice, Albus gave the lad his blessing to use it; they both studied under the same man and while Albus had finished his tutelage they were still on an even sort of field.

"You look… Well."

Harry snorted, "You think I should be bawling over the old man's death?"

A frown marred Albus' face at the way Harry described Nicolas; accurate or not it was still quite rude, especially when the man was freshly dead.

"I would hope to see you in mourning at least."

Harry narrowed his eyes, "I've known both he and Perenelle were going to die for years; the only reason they lived as long as they did was because they took what they had left of the Elixir of Life using Hufflepuff's cup."

"And yet, here you are; right as rain. I wonder how much you truly cared for Nicolas."

Albus found himself having to duck as a plate was thrown right at his head so quickly that it broke the instant it hit the wall behind him. As he thought of the words he spoke, a wince escaped him; they were far harsher than he meant them to be.

"Please," Harry said, almost pleasantly; though the look in his eyes spoke murder. "Continue and tell me how I should act when my mentor _dies in front of me_. You obviously have experience with loved ones dying in front of you; Ariana I believe was her name. How should I act, mm?"

Albus found himself going stone cold, his wand somehow finding its way into his hand. There were many things he would allow, but when somebody spoke of his sister in any way that wasn't kindly made Albus quick to lose his temper.

He took a deep breath and spoke slowly, "I apologize for my words Harry, they came out of the mouth of a deeply grieving man. I hope the same applies for yourself." The implied _or else_ was quite apparent in his tone of voice, which was barely controlled in its raw emotion.

Harry studied Albus for a moment, his posture screaming defiance, before he quickly slumped in defeat. He turned his back on Albus and continued his packing of appliances into the cardboard boxes.

The silence between the two was unbearable for Albus, and even if it would get Harry angry once more he _needed_ to hear the boy talk. For his own nerves if nothing else.

"Why did you leave Perenelle alone Harry?"

Harry just sighed, and turned to Albus. He finally looked somber. "Nicolas and Perenelle had been together for six centuries; their magic was essentially intertwined. You know that. And from that, you should know that if one was to die the other would follow in quick succession."

Harry put one last plate in a box and pulled out his wand, charming the cardboard closed and impervious to harm. "I… I couldn't see them both die in the same day."

Mollified, Albus nodded. "Perenelle passed on a few minutes ago. I haven't lit the fire, but I put her on the pyre you made, next to Nicolas."

Harry stilled, and let out an anguished sigh. "What the hell do you want Albus, aside from making me feel terrible I mean?"

"I came to check on you." Albus earnestly said.

"You're great at that, real great. You should be a psychiatrist." Harry retorted blandly, sarcasm thick in his voice.

An involuntary twitch of the lip escaped Albus. At least the boy still had his humor.

"What are you doing?"

Harry scrunched up his brow, "Packing. I thought it was obvious."

"I was hoping you might explain _why_ you're packing," Albus elaborated.

Harry shrugged, "Nicolas died before I could finish my apprenticeship, so I can't become a Journeyman Alchemist unless I find another to test me, and the only other renowned alchemists are in China."

Albus could understand the thought. In order to become a Journeyman in any magical field outside of NEWTs required a testing session to be overseen by another Journeyman or, in Nicolas' case, a Master. When it came to Alchemy, a Mastery didn't actually exist anymore; the requirements went against the laws set up by the Statue of Secrecy; which meant Nicolas was the last Master Alchemist in the world. And in England, Albus was the only Journeyman left; and even then he hadn't dabbled in Alchemy since before he was a Hogwarts Professor for Transfiguration.

Still… _China?_ The land was so large and diverse. The Chinese did not have a Ministry and instead treated magic like a religion, one that was _extremely_ cut off from any and all forms of society. Albus doubted the lad would be able to find any form of alchemist within the next three years, and even if he _was_ able to find one there was even more doubt that Harry would be able to get the alchemist in question to test him.

A thought struck Albus, one that might solve his problems. So long as the boy was amenable of course.

"You know Harry," Albus said, trying to sound conversational. "I am a Journeyman Alchemist myself."

Harry's head shot up, a look of hope in his eyes.

"I'd forgotten about that." He admitted.

"It's not well advertised. I would think that you of all people would remember though, what with us having the same master." Albus said.

A small, sheepish look came over Harry's face. He didn't offer a response, so Albus merely continued his train of thought. "Though, I doubt I'd have time to test you, the process takes months. If _only_ there was some way to make it so you could spend those months nearby."

"Cut the shit, Albus." Harry growled, his hand massaging his scalp. "I'm too old to be a Hogwarts student, and there's no point since I already have my damned NEWTs."

"Ah! And how did you do on those might I ask?" Albus asked.

"Straight O's." Harry said; no small amount of pride in his voice. "I took my Potions, Runes, Arithmancy and Astronomy NEWTs at fourteen, my Charms, Care for Magical Creatures and Herbology NEWTs at fifteen and took my Transfiguration, History of Magic, and DADA NEWTs last year."

Quite good, Albus thought. He understood Harry's focus on his first four NEWTs, those were the classes that Nicolas required to be completed before one could begin to work with alchemy, and being taught by the greatest alchemist in the world would influence anyone's drive to succeed. The two at fifteen were a surprise but not overly so; the Flamels believed that anything relevant to their study needed to be dealth with as quickly as possible. Charms weren't _too_ important to alchemy, but it did have its uses. Many ingredients used for potions and alchemy came from magical creatures, and Herbology went hand in hand with Potions so it was only natural for Harry to complete those NEWTs as quickly as possible.

The final three NEWTs were likely because the Flamels weren't capable of teaching Harry any more, either because he learned enough from his focus of alchemy or because they were incapable of teaching any more with their quickly approaching deaths. Knowing Harry, and Albus admitted he didn't know the lad as well as he wished he did, the boy likely took the last of his NEWTs on their request. He would not pry though, a well-rounded education was something Albus firmly believed in, and while Harry's was different from Hogwarts he had the same end result.

"Well," Albus began. "It just so happens that I need a new Professor for Defense Against the Dark Arts this upcoming school year."

A stricken look of horror crossed over Harry's face. "You want me to _teach?!_ You _do_ know I've barely been involved with people my own age, right? The only time I've even _spoken_ to a person near my age was with some of the younger members of the werewolf packs on the Isle. Hell, my best friend is _Hedwig_ for Merlin's sake."

"Ah, you are, of course, welcome to bring Hedwig with you. I'm sure the students and faculty would be delighted to have her around." Albus replied, a twinkle forming in his eye.

Harry let out a string of curses that vividly reminded Albus of the fact that Harry was in fact raised by Sebastian Lestrange. Only that man could have taught Harry those words. Well, Albus mentally amended, both Nicolas and Perenelle would know the words as well, but they were more likely to wash Harry's mouth out with soap upon hearing them than actually teach the words to the boy.

Harry had bit his lip so hard it bled in order to calm down. "Is there _anything_ else I could do that would make it so you would give me my Journeyman's test?"

"I'm afraid that, while I would love to help you, I am quite serious. The Ministry has made it perfectly clear that if I don't find a professor within the next two days, they will instill a woman named Delores Umbridge as the DADA Professor. If not for that, I would be more amenable to alternate testing."

"…Umbridge?" Harry asked, which made Albus nod sharply.

"…The toad?" Harry clarified, which made Albus nod once more, albeit with a small bit of mirth in his visage. Harry then let out an even worse string of curses, this time directed at an individual instead of at a profession. It seemed the boy know of her reputation. Though, to be fair he _did_ live on the Ministry's werewolf dumping ground. Add onto that the fact that the boy was raised by a werewolf and he was partially one, it made a fair bit of sense that he wouldn't like Umbridge; not that many folks _did_.

"Why the hell would the Ministry send _her_ to Hogwarts?" Harry asked. "She's the Ministers Undersecretary, right? She actually has things to _do_ , no matter how bad she is at it."

"It's because the Minister refuses to believe that Voldemort has returned, and think that my saying that means I am try to take over the Minstry."

Harry looked both appalled and incredulous, "Voldemort's back? _You_ take over the Ministry? The only way you'd try and do that was if the damned placed was made of lemon drops."

"A worthy conquest, indeed." Albus agreed.

"But, really… He's back? How?" Harry asked in a muted sort of shock. "I thought he was still a spirit. And even then, I still don't understand how he was able to live as a spirit."

Albus studied the boy, should he tell Harry the truth? It took a time to figure out that Voldemort had used Horcruxes to stay alive; it was only after he had physical proof in the form of Tom's diary did Albus truly know. From that, Albus knew that two had been destroyed; the diary and the cup; both by the Potter boys, in a twisted form of irony. Perhaps Aster would take care of the next one, if there was another of course. Albus hadn't the slightest how many Horcruxes there were, though he had a feeling he'd need to visit Horace soon. Now that Voldemort had returned, the time for playing nice with the slippery potioneer was over.

But Harry had known Voldemort was alive. Albus was perfectly clear that the spirit of the Dark Lord possessed one of his professors and used Quirrels body to steal the Philosopher's Stone when he explained how it was destroyed the Flamels. Nicolas wasted no time informing Harry about what happened.

In the end, Albus decided that Harry was likely one of the few individuals he would trust with this.

"Do you have strong occlumency shields?" It would be terrible if the information got out.

"Not through meditation or legilimency invasions, no." Harry admitted. "I still have the wolf inside me though. He keeps any legilimency users out of my head."

Ah, Albus had forgotten about that. It had been a number of years since anybody was foolish enough to use legilimency on a werewolf. The act of legilimency was essentially the magical variant of traversing through anothers mind. In it, one would put part of their consciousness into another, and would rifle through memories and actions trying to discern information. However, when a magical tried to perform legilimency on a werewolf, the wolf that was normally dormant until the full moon would lash out at the person. There were cases of people going mad from the strain the wolf would put under their probes. The only reason the Sorting Hat was able to sort Remus Lupin was because it wasn't human and its probe was in order to discern personality, not experiences.

"Tell me, Harry. Have you heard of Horcruxes?"

When the boy shook his head negatively, Albus inwardly cheered. The less the boy knew about the foul magic the better. Even explaining what they were to the boy caused Albus a great deal of sadness; such was the distress Horcruxes brought him.

"A Horcrux is an object in which a person would conceal part of their soul. You split part of your soul and hide it outside of the body; inside items of importance to the creator. Then, even if one's body is attacked or destroyed, one cannot die, for part of the soul remains earthbound and undamaged."

Harry's eyes grew progressively wide and he was quickly turning pale. "But- But the soul is what lets us _use_ our magic!"

"Which is why only the desperate and the darkest of individuals would even consider creating a Horcrux."

There was a silence between them. The only noise came from Hedwig's paws padding the wooden floorboards from the rooms over, bringing book after book and scroll after scroll into the office where the mokeskin pouch was.

"So that's how he was alive… He made one?" Harry finally asked.

"Yes, Voldemort made Horcruxes."

"Horcrux _es?!_ " Harry almost shouted out in pure disgust.

Albus nodded, a grim look on his face. "I know he made at least two, and knowing Voldemort he wouldn't be satisfied with just that."

"What are the two that you know of?"

"There was a diary that was found two years ago; it was Voldemort's from when he was going to school… And the other was the cup you're so fond of."

Harry looked shocked, and then a sort of satisfied look spread over his face, "I can be proud of that at least. Who else can say that they used a Dark Lord to cure them of lycanthropy?"

Albus shrugged, not offering a comment. The subject wasn't especially humorous to him. "None. But back to the position; if I don't get a professor in two days time, Delores will take over as this year's Defense Professor, and she will do her very best to subvert my will."

Harry mulled it over, looking less horrified over being a professor now that he understood the context of _why_ he was needed. Albus hoped that the boy would accept; it would alleviate him of the Ministry strong arm while also making it so Harry _had_ to socialize. He had no clue that the boy hadn't spoken to any other teenagers aside from a few members of the local packs, and while Harry seemed put together, it would never do for him to be stunted in any way.

"Fine." Harry said, "Hedwig comes with me, and I won't step foot in Hogwarts till the start of term feast."

Albus was far too happy to care about that. "Whatever you need."

* * *

The weeks up to the start of the 1995 term were faster than expected.

After Harry agreed to become professor, both he and Albus had hashed out their contract. The details needed to be taken care of in an orderly fashion, and Albus knew better than any other Hogwarts Headmaster what the contract for Defense Against the Dark Arts entailed; he'd had to personally sign off on over forty of them.

It was quite funny when Albus had to forbid relations between teacher and student. True, that was meant for teacher that did not share an age with his students, but the sputtering Harry let out brought a smile to Albus' face.

Then the somber mood came back with a vengeance. They returned to the Flamel Chateau to cremate the freshly dead couple. Fawkes had lit the pyre, and his song kept what would have been quite a mournful funeral into a celebration of their lives. Tears had been spilt en mass by the pair and after a dinner together where they spoke fondly of their times with the Flamels, both Harry and Albus went their separate ways.

Cornelius nearly had an aneurysm when Albus informed him that he'd found a professor. To be cheeky, Albus kept Harry anonymous and instead said that the new DADA Professor was the last apprentice of Nicolas Flamel; something that seemed to make the Minister for Magic even more flustered. Such a pedigree couldn't be ignored after all.

And yet, Albus did not expect the man to be so slippery. Cornelius used the poor grades for History of Magic instead of Defense as an out, and before Albus could get a proper word in on the subject it was decided by the Board of Governors that Delores Umbridge would become the new professor on the subject. Albus was quite contrite about that, and made sure to tell his heads of houses to keep the Ministry pop and cock out of the ears of the young and impressionable.

He dearly wished he could tell the Potters about Harry, but part of the deal was that Harry needed time to get used to the fact that he could no longer be comfortable in his anonymity. Albus respected that and made no move to go around the agreement. Harry was a highly private individual and needed time to get used to the fact that he would be in the limelight for the first time in his life.

* * *

Eustace Fleamont Potter was enthralled with the song the Sorting Hat sang. It had been so different from the ones he'd heard in the years past, where it would talk of what the Hogwarts Houses looked for in students. This time it was talking about bringing the houses back to the way they were supposed to be, to make the students united against a common foe.

Though the Ministry was trying their damnedest to reject the claim, what he said was true; Voldemort was back. The Sorting Hat may not have known that for a fact, but it knew that times were changing, and for that Eustace was thankful.

The hat began to sort the firsties, and Eustace let his mind wander. He looked around the silent room and focused on the people next to him at the Hufflepuff table; Neville Longbottom and Hermione Granger. Neville was his god brother, and had been his best friend since he was a baby; they were inseparable many would say. Hermione was somebody he'd met on the Hogwarts Express; she joined both him and Neville in their compartment and after the trio had gone searching for Neville's pet toad together they'd been thick as thieves from then on.

Eustace had always known he was going to follow Neville into whatever house he was sorted into, so when Hermione went into Hufflepuff and Neville followed suit, Eustace did the same. It was a controversy apparently, he was _expected_ to go into Gryffindor. Yeah, his dad preferred the house of red and gold, but he wasn't going to browbeat. Eustace's own grandfather and namesake Fleamont Potter had been a 'puff, and it was actually his grandmother Euphemia Potter that was the Gryffindor of the family prior to his dad being sorted there.

It turned out Hermione was sorted into Hufflepuff because Eustace and Neville had been her first friends. She had a lonely childhood, and she was determined to keep their friendship going for the whole of her Hogwarts career. The loyalty she kept to their friendship outstripped her bravery and amazing intellect, so she became a badger. Neville had always been a softer sort of kid and just wanted to make his mum proud, so he went into the house she had been at in Hogwarts. Eustace never understood why some folks thought Alice Longbottom had been a Gryffindor just because she married one.

They'd done everything together. Stopping Voldemort from getting the Philosopher's Stone, figuring out that there was a Basilisk underneath the school, confronting Wormtail. Even during the Tri-Wizard Tournament, when Eustace's name had been called, they were together. Cedric knew that he didn't put his name in, and since 'puffs stick together the pair studied their arses off for the tasks, Eustice with Hermione and Neville and Cedric with his longtime girlfriend, Cho Chang. Hermione had even been his date to the ball, and boy did she cleaned up really nicely, while Neville went with Hannah Abbot.

And then Cedric died. It was terrible, the pair had run through the maze and found the cup. As any badger would, they decided to take the cup together and make it a true Hogwarts victory.

Wormtail. Eustace hated that rat with the same sort of vengeance his parents did now; maybe even more. An Avada Kedeavra from his wand killed Cedric in an instant. Then the rat cut at Eustace's arm with a ritual dagger, and using his blood Wormtail created a body for Voldemort.

The only reason Eustace was able to escape the graveyard was because of the Animagus form that he'd mastered only three weeks prior; a humming bird. He wasn't able to bring Cedric's body back, and he regretted that deeply. The utter look of despair that Amos Diggory wore when he learned his son died was like a stab in the gut. Worse, the Minister wouldn't even listen to Eustace's story; he just called Eustace a liar and started a smear campaign on his name using the Prophet.

The snapping fingers of Hermione jolted him from his thoughts. He turned to her with wide eyes, and belatedly noticed a plate of food in her arms while a trimmed brow was raised inquisitively on her face.

"Are you alright? You've been out of it, and food's already been served." She sounded worried, and Eustace felt a bit of pink go to his cheeks; it was always a pleasant feeling when a pretty girl worried for him.

He piled food onto his plate, and listened to the discussion throughout the table. Most of them were still hung on the Sorting Hat's song, while some were talking about their classes and tests and the rest were welcoming the firsties to the one true house of Hogwarts. Ernie was shooting him pointed glares that Eustace returned easily enough, the ponce had always believed anything that was written in the Prophet.

He looked at the high table where the Professors sat. Sprout and Flitwick were talking about something or another, and McGonagall was blatantly staring at the Weasley Twins. Sinestra and Vector were eating quietly at their spots and Babbling was outright sleeping, as was Trelawney though the Divination Professor was probably passed out from drinking too much sherry when compared to Babbling, who always seemed like she needed some more sleep.

Eustace frowned when he noticed that Hagrid wasn't there anymore; instead, Professor Grubby-Plank was at his spot. Snape looked as sallow as ever, glaring at his plate as if it had insulted him. Dumbledore looked funny, his beard was flipped over his shoulder so it didn't get in the way of his eating and he was scarfing down his food in a way that reminded Eustace of Ron Weasley from when he visited the twins this summer. Next to Dumbledore, at the spot meant for the DADA Professor was glaringly empty. And next to _that_ seat was…

"That's her!" Eustace whispered harshly to Hermione, who looked startled by his tone.

She peered up at the high table, "Who?"

"Two seats off from Dumbledore. That's that Umbridge woman, she was at my hearing, she works for Fudge!"

"Nice cardigan," Neville snarked with a bit of gravy dribbling down his lip. Hannah, who was sat next to him, licked her thumb and got rid of the gravy, making Neville's ears turn as red a lobster.

"She works for Fudge?" Hermione repeated, frowning. "What on earth's she doing here then? And why that seat? I've never seen anybody sit there, I think it's meant for Binns."

"Teaching, apparently." Eustace said with a frown on his face.

Conversation between the three died down soon enough as they all looked to the high table, forming their own theories to why things were different.

When all the students had finished eating, Dumbledore got to his feet. Talking ceased immediately and all turned towards the headmaster. Eustace hoped that Dumbledore would shed some light on whatever the hell was happening.

"Now that we are all fed and watered, I ask for a few moments of your attention for the usual start-of-term notices," Dumbledore said, idly flipping his beard back from over his shoulder to where it normally was, over his chest and touching his waist. "Once more, the forest in the grounds is out of bounds to all students – a few of our older students should _remember_ that."

Eustace, Neville and Hermione exchanged smirks, as did the Weasley Twins from the Gryffindor table.

"Mr. Filch, our caretaker, has asked me to remind you all that magic is not permitted in the corridors between classes, nor are a number of other things, all of which can be checked on the extensive list now fastened to his office door. If any students need to check up on what items are not permitted but do not know where our caretakers office is, ask a prefect."

There was a small bit of snickering breaking out over towards the Gryffindor table, and Eustace didn't need to bother looking; everybody knew that the twins were responsible for that.

"We have had three changes in staffing this year. We are quite pleased to welcome back Professor Grubby-Plank, who will be taking Care for Magical Creatures lessons. We will also be… _delighted_ , to introduce Professor Umbridge, our new History of Magic teacher."

Whispers permeated the hall. There hadn't been a new History of Magic Professor for over half a decade, not since Professor Binns offed himself and bound his spirit to the wing of school where it was taught. All professors that tried to take the post found themselves constantly talked over by Binns, who would drone on about goblin rebellions instead of whatever it was the class was supposed to learn.

Eustace also noted the way Dumbledore strained to say delighted when talking about Umbridge. It was painfully obvious that the man didn't like the new History of Magic teacher.

"Our newest Defense Professor is not here at the moment, he got held up with the floo I'm told, but should be here within the hour. Should you not see him tonight, he will introduce himself tomorrow as we break our fast. Now! Tryouts for the House Quidditch teams will take place on the–..."

He broke off, looking annoyed at Professor Umbridge, Eustace didn't understand why he stopped talking, but then Umbridge said, _"Hem, hem,"_ and it became clear that she intended to make a speech with or without the permission of the Headmaster. Many students were smirking at her in amusement, she was barely taller standing than she was sitting, and her nose didn't quite make it over Dumbledore's podium.

"Thank you, Headmaster," she simpered. "For those kind words of welcome."

Eustace didn't know why, but upon hearing her high-pitched, breathy and girlish voice, he felt a rush of dislike for her. He already didn't like the woman, but it was like the more she spoke the more his opinion of her became solidified.

"Well, it is lovely to be back at Hogwarts, I must say! And to see such happy little faces looking back at me!"

Eustace spared a glance around the Hufflepuff table. None of the faces he could see looked happy; in fact they all looked taken aback at being addressed as though they were five years old.

"I am very much looking forward to getting to know you all, and I'm sure we'll be very good friends!"

And from then on, she did nothing but prattle on about how the Ministry of Magic was important, how it intended to help students, and what it expected of students in turn.

Eustace had turned out most of what she was saying, keeping his attention firmly on his bushy haired friend, "What do you think of her?"

"She's certainly a character," Hermione said in a low voice.

"You're not telling me you're enjoying what you hear?" Neville incredulously asked.

"Merlin, no. But if you listen to the speech and pick it apart, then you hear what she's really saying. Basically, she thinks Hogwarts should be held to a higher standard, blames the fact that it isn't a certain way on Dumbledore, and intends to do something about it… What that something is, I suppose we'll find out soon enough."

Umbridge kept prattling on, until a sound blared from the other side of the door separating the Great Hall from the rest of Hogwarts. It was like the howl of a wolf, only it was baritone in pitch and it seemed to encompass the room. Several people had shivers run down their spines as the sound caught them. Eustace looked at his arm and saw the makings of gooseflesh.

The door was opened with a slam. There was a man, wearing a pair of muggle sweatpants, sandals and a sleeveless shirt. The first thing Eustace thought upon seeing the man was _big._ He stood over half a head higher than Dumbledore did, and he had obvious muscles. His left arm was littered in a bunch of nasty scars. His hair was black and long and was hung over his eyes, making it so Eustace could only make out the lower half of his face.

He stepped into the room, his hands in the pockets of his pants, and then a wall of white came in from behind him. It took Eustace a moment to discern that it wasn't actually a wall; it was a wolf that came up to the mans chest and was nearly as long as Hagrid was tall. It was snow white and had a deadly looking tusked jaw. Amber eyes were surveying the students, as if they were nothing but prey, and more than a few had fear in their eyes as they took in the duo; and some of the girls had pink cheeks.

Eustace spared a glance at Hermione and found his hopes fall; she too had pink cheeks. But she was paying the wolf more attention than she did the man, so he allowed himself to breath steadily.

"That's a dire wolf," she said in a sort of awe. "They're as rare as can be. Most never get the chance to see one, and I don't think one's ever been domesticated."

As barely hushed whispers filled the hall, Umbridge looked like she had swallowed a lemon.

" _Hem, hem."_

The hall turned to her, and the man's head turned up a tad. Eustace guessed he was looking at her too.

"Who are you? Why are you dressed like a muggle, and why is that- that _beast_ here?" she asked, her voice simpering but seemed to have a hiss of agitation to it now.

"…You really do look like a toad." Said the man, and Eustace found himself choking on air, trying not to laugh. Neville seemed to be having the same problem and Hermione's cheeks turned pink again as the man spoke.

" _Excuse me?!"_ Umbridge snarled out in her girlish voice, and the man just boomed a laugh that was echoed by the dire wolf by his side. The beast in question let out a cackle that reminded Eustice of a hyena he saw a zoo when he was ten.

"Ah," Dumbledore spoke up, his contrite look at Umbridge turned to blatant amusement in a near instant. "Why are you in muggle clothing, Harry?"

"Because it's night time, and I sleep in this stuff." Came the man's blunt response, and Eustace got the feeling that he would need to get used to such bluntness in the near future. Idly, Eustace toyed with the name; he felt he should know the name Harry. It was at the tip of his tongue, but he couldn't think straight.

" _He called me a toad!"_ Umbridge cried out in her shrill voice, and that caused the hall to break out in barely stifled snickers.

"I'll also call you shrimp, pinky, pinch-face and a number of other names; my favorite is Umbitch."

That did it, the hall broke out in a loud laughter. The teachers at the high table looked to be amused and shocked; for some reason Snape looked like he would start screaming bloody murder and McGonagall looked ready to burst into tears. Eustace was going to have to write that one out to his mum and dad tomorrow, they'd love it.

Dumbledore looked on with a twinkle in his eye and his shoulders were shaking, while Umbridge seemed to finally understand she was the butt of a joke and stalked back to her seat, giving the new Defense Professor a look that could sour milk.

Dumbledore idly wiped a tear from his eye. "And now that jokes are over, come on up; let us introduce you to your new students."

The man walked up to the table and stood next to the Headmaster; his dire wolf following suit. Eustace finally got a look at the man's face, and he felt shock hit his system. From afar it looked like he was looking in a mirror, only it was an older version of himself. He had the same green eyes that Eustace shared with his mum and sister, the same black hair the Eustace shared with his dad and sister and had a face that combined the two. There was a sinking feeling in his gut, and he wasn't sure if he liked it.

"May I introduce your new Professor for Defense Against the Dark Arts? Professor Potter, who has joined our staff in order to take his Journeyman's test under my observation in the study of Alchemy; he was the last student of the famed Nicolas Flamel! Next to him is his familiar, Hedwig; I do not recommend playing pranks on her, she doesn't respond well to them."

Applause sounded from the room, a few catcalls came and made Harry blush pink. In contrast to the confidence he showed when talking down to Umbridge, Harry shyly waved back at the crowd.

It clicked at that moment, _Harry Potter!_ That was his brother! Eustace exchanged wide eyed stares with Neville and Hermione, and then watched as Hermione abruptly paled.

"What?" Eustace asked, excitement bubbling over in his voice. His parents had been looking for Harry for thirteen years, and there was nothing bad that Eustace could find in this circumstance.

"He was the apprentice to Nicolas Flamel. The _last_ apprentice to him." She responded quietly.

Eustace stilled, mulling over what she said and found himself paling in a similar manner. He turned his stare back on his brother, and found his elder's eyes firmly locked with his own. There was no kindness, no interest and no love in that look. There wasn't even neutrality.

All Eustace saw was blatant dislike in that look.

* * *

 **A/N: So the buildups are done, now we can begin the story in full.**

 **This chapter didn't have much mention to Harry's Lycan form because, while it will become important to the story, it is** _ **not**_ **relevant for now. It will be, but when Harry is starting out as a Hogwarts Professor he isn't going to be letting it out all willy nilly, especially when Umbridge is nearby.**

 **So, I got most of the POV's for Albus out of the way. I started out with him in the prologue and did here too, but ended with Eustace. Next chapter should be a proper POV for Harry. I say should, not will, because I haven't written it and don't know how it will come out until I do so.**

 **The death of the Flamels was always going to happen. I don't care that the destruction of the Philospher's Stone was stupid, it happened and it's done with. Albus owned up to his callousness, and Harry is upfront about his dislike for Albus.**

 **Harry is a big guy. His hair's about as long as Ned Stark's from Game of Thrones and generally he'll keep the same hairdo that Ned uses.**

 **Yes, Eustace is a Hufflepuff. Surprising, since most people expect Harry's brother to be a total slob that got sorted into Gryffindor purely because it was expected of him. I don't like playing up to the stereotypes that we are all too familiar with when it comes to Alive! Potters. I'm all good for a cliché when it makes sense, but I don't think the Potters, or any parents, would be that terrible at raising children that they'd do what fanfiction expects of them. Yes, he's an Animagus. His parents are both Animagi, and I intend for the transformation to be relevant to the story.**

 **Harry v Umbridge. The simple fact of the matter is that this is not the Harry from cannon. This is my Harry, and since he hasn't socialized much he doesn't fully understand the idea of** _ **not**_ **speaking his mind. I admit, when it came to Umbridge Harry let out more personal dislike than anything, but being blunt is going to be his forte.**

 **The end where Eustace sees only dislike? That's because Harry doesn't like Eustace; nor does he like Hermione and Neville. He's an adult now, and views the Lily and James in a neutral fashion and is actually curious about Aster, but Eustace destroyed the Philospher's Stone. To Harry, it doesn't matter that it stopped Voldemort from returning to life. The stone was what kept the Flamels alive. So, yeah, Eustace is pretty much on his shit list.**


	3. The First Class

**I had some good reviews and comments and I'm pleased to see people are enjoying this. Without further ado, on to the story.**

* * *

Minerva McGonagall was a woman that liked to claim she wasn't easy to surprise. She had her moments, every proper witch did, but she was old enough and experienced enough when it came to children that their antics rarely fazed her. The Marauders were an exception; they made it their civic duty to throw her off balance with their ridiculous pranks.

So, when she was informed by Albus that he had found a new Professor for Defense Against the Dark Arts that would surprise her, she scoffed. She was prepared to see something unexpected of course, perhaps Lily or James would finally leave their house and take over a class; she wouldn't be _surprised_ but it would be a pleasant change of pace for certain. Albus refused to tell her who the new DADA professor was, claiming that his newest employee didn't want to be known until it was time, which only made Minerva more hopeful that it was one of the Potters, likely Lily. Lily's sense of humor was reactionary and she loved to surprise people in a non-malicious way.

She was one of the few people to keep in frequent contact with the Potters. She was, after all, the Godmother and namesake to their youngest child, Aster Minerva Potter. Minerva was eagerly awaiting the next school year; Aster would join Hogwarts and _that_ girl was Gryffindor to the core.

And then the first of September came.

There was no denying that she was disappointed that she couldn't see the newest professor. Albus claimed that the man had floo trouble. Minerva took that moment to mark Lily off of possible professors; Albus said it was a man after all. That didn't mean James couldn't have taught.

Still, she did her duty without complaint as was expected of her; reading off the names of the first year students to be sorted by the Sorting Hat. There was a surprisingly large surplus of new students this year; over fifty when compared to the standard class size of between thirty and forty children. Most went to Hufflepuff this year, some trailing after the Boy-Who-Lived while others honestly were proper 'puffs. It didn't matter to Minerva, though she would admit to being disappointed that only six students were sorted into Gryffindor.

And then the feast started. She kept her eyes trailed on the Weasley Twins for the majority of it. They were so like James and Sirius, the only difference being they were _actual_ brothers, and because they were so similar to the core of the Marauders did Minerva keep an eye on them. The Marauders, on their final year of Hogwarts, tried their best to cause as much mischief and chaos as they could. While Minerva never condoned teenage pregnancies, she was relieved that Lily's baby bump forced her and James to leave the school early; Minerva worried that if she had to put up with James any longer that her patience would break and spells would be flying. With the Weasley Twins also being seventh years now, Minerva knew from experience that it was best not to hope for a miraculously maturation from the pair.

When the feast ended, Albus stood up and made his normal announcements. Telling older students (meaning the Weasley Twins and the Duffer Guard as the trio of Eustace Potter, Neville Longbottom and Hermione Granger were widely known as) to keep out of the Forbidden Forest, telling people to make note on what they cannot have on their person, and telling the new first years to keep an eye out on prefects if they need any help.

He then introduced two of the three new professors that would be joining Hogwarts this year. Wilhelmina Grubby-Plank was an unexpected return, but Minerva knew that Hagrid wasn't back from his communal with the giants, so it wasn't _too_ surprising. The introduction of a new professor for History of Magic was something Minerva thought was a long time coming, and then when she saw the new professor she already missed Binns. Delores Umbridge was a terrible example of a human being, let alone a witch, and Minerva knew that there would be issues with the pink monstrosity.

And then that tart started _talking_ ; over _Albus Dumbledore!_ Never had Minerva seen something so blatantly rude in her life. As she listened attentively to what the squat woman said, Minerva felt the cells of her brain dying by the hundreds every time a sentence passed over those garishly painted pink lips. Minerva wasn't certain how much longer she could handle _not_ interrupting the woman, but then somebody did if for her. A howl passed through the Great Hall, one that made Minerva shiver a tad.

And then the doors were kicked open.

A tall man with a patch of blackened stubble over his youthful face walked in. Minerva couldn't make out what the upper part of his face looked like with all that black hair in the way. Clad in a pair of sweat pants, sandals and a sleeveless shirt, the man looked like he just rolled out of bed; or she supposed, based on the time of night it was, he was likely heading _to_ bed.

Then there was the source of the howling.

Minerva was one of the few people to have ever seen a dire wolf before, but at the time she was so grief stricken that she didn't have the chance to appreciate the creature. It showed up on the same day that she put her husband in the ground of the Forbidden Forest. She remembered it was grey and it had tusks, but that was all that came to mind; the majority of her attention was held on the grave of her dearest Elphinstone.

This dire wolf was quite different though. It was as white as snow and was actively staring at each and every one of the students with piercing amber eyes, quite contrary to how the species would normally act; dire wolves tended to keep away from the masses while this one seemed to almost relish to looks of fear in her students.

" _Hem, hem."_

Minerva found a scowl slipping onto her face as Umbridge cleared her throat, trying to get the attention of the hall back onto her form.

"Who are you? Why are you dressed like a muggle, and why is that- that _beast_ here?" Umbridge asked in that simpering tone of voice that irked Minerva for some strange reason. Idly, she took a small sip of the whiskey in her chalice; focusing on her drink was a much better alternative than focusing on Umbridge's voice.

"…You really do look like a toad." Said the man, and Minerva nearly spat out her whiskey in response. Wilhelmina slapped Minerva on the back in a feeble attempt to help the whiskey go down, but she wasn't paying the man any attention; the Hogwarts returnee was only looking at the dire wolf with a sort of reverence.

" _Excuse me?!"_ Umbridge snarled out in her girlish voice, and the man just boomed a laugh that was echoed by the dire wolf by his side. The dire wolf let out a laugh that wasn't unlike a hyena.

"Ah," Dumbledore spoke up and Minerva saw a sort of barely repressed mirth in the eyes of her employer. "Why are you in muggle clothing, Professor?"

She couldn't help but look over the man with a tad bit more scrutiny upon hearing he was the new professor. What did Albus mean when he said she would be surprised? She didn't recognize this man at all, nor did she recognize his voice; it was distinct, a strange combination of an English, French and a slight Gaelic accent that Minerva wouldn't forget any time soon.

"Because it's night time, and I sleep in this stuff." He said in such a tone that caused a frown to form over Minerva's face. She did not care for people talking to Albus in any way that wasn't respectful, and that did not sound anything like respect.

" _He called me a toad!"_ Umbridge cried out and Minerva found a cackle escape her throat involuntarily as the rest of the Great Hall snickered at her plight.

Then the man looked Umbridge dead in the eye, the hair covering his face falling away. Minerva finally caught a glimpse at his face, and a stillness came to her. He looked like a perfect combination of Lily and James, with James's cheeks and chin hidden under his stubble and Lily's eyes and nose.

"I'll also call you shrimp, pinky, pinch-face and a number of other names; my favorite is Umbitch."

He even had that same smirk on his face when talking back to his betters that James did! Not that Minerva viewed Umbridge as the boy's better, of course. She felt her eyes water as emotion bubbled over and the Great Hall broke out in loud laughter once more; she _knew_ who this was.

She rubbed at her eyes with the sleeve of her robe as the hall quieted down and Albus himself did the same, though his tears were of mirth and not joy.

"And now that jokes are over," Albus said. "Come on up; let us introduce you to your new students."

Minerva never noticed how tall he truly was until he stood up next to Albus. Albus barely made it to his neck and the dire wolf was up to Albus' shoulder.

"May I introduce your new Professor for Defense Against the Dark Arts? Professor Harry Potter, who has joined our staff in order to graduate from apprentice to Journeyman in the study of Alchemy; he was the last student of the famed Nicolas Flamel! Next to him is his familiar, Hedwig; I do not recommend playing pranks on her, she doesn't respond well to them."

There was a loud applause and even a few catcalls. Minerva could see, even as Harry's back was to her face, that he embarrassed by his response and only offered a shy wave of the hand to the students. But it was fact, this was _Harry Potter!_ The partner to the Boy-Who-Lived as the Lost Potter. Idly, Minerva found herself cursing the wizarding world and their need to title every person of relative importance.

The students were led out of the Great Hall by prefects and Albus turned his full attention to Harry.

"I take it you know where your room is?" Albus asked with mirth in his voice.

"Not a damn clue," Harry responded cheerfully.

Albus offered a smile, "Well you'll be happy to know that I have given you a room connected to the grounds. It has a large window that leads directly to the forest, so Hedwig will be able to run freely."

Harry let out a sigh of relief, "Good. You don't know how hard it is to keep her still when she hasn't run around for at least an hour a day."

Albus nodded solemnly, "I used to have a pet hamster that was much the same."

Minerva was sure she wasn't the only one that found it ridiculous that Albus compared a hamster to a _dire wolf._

"Pomona, would you do Harry the favor of showing him to his quarters?" Albus asked the Herbology Professor.

"Certainly!" Pomona said, her smile wide and bright. She skipped out of the room, as she was prone to do for some odd reason, and Harry and his dire wolf shared a wry look and bounded after the plump woman.

"Now," Albus said, turning to the whole of the staff; excluding Umbridge, much to the woman's growing ire. "We have a long day ahead of use tomorrow; go to your quarters and rest. I will see you all when we break our fast in the morning."

Minerva needed no further instruction and walked towards her quarters faster than she had done in years. It was lucky that her room was a relatively short distance from the Great Hall, and that there were secret passageways that made the trip even shorter.

She entered the room and ignored her bed, instead making her way to her desk and pulled out a mirror piece that looked to be broken from a much large mirror. She grabbed her wand and pressed it to the mirror.

There was a beat of silence and Minerva worried for a moment. The worry evaporated near instantly as the face of Aster Potter came up. This was a two-way mirror between herself and her Goddaughter that was crafted by Lily a few years ago. Whenever Aster needed to talk to somebody that wasn't one of her parents, since the girl rarely had the chance to play with children her own age, she would use the mirror to speak to Minerva.

"Aunt Min!" Aster said, her green eyes bright and slightly covered by her overly long bangs of black hair. Minerva found it endearing that the girl viewed her as an aunt.

"Hello Aster, I was hoping you could get your parents for me. It's important."

The girl's smile dulled but she quickly nodded her head; Minerva supposed the girl was hoping for a conversation. While she had not reservation to do such a thing, Minerva was not one to call during the girls' bed time unless there was a _good_ reason.

Aster moved about the house and came to a stop at the door to her parents' bedroom. She banged on it quite hard, and James opened the door with a raised brow and frown on his face not a moment sooner.

"Aster, why are you up? Your bed time was thirty minutes ago."

"Aunt Min called for you," Aster said. She held up the mirror that had Minerva's reflection in it and James brightened.

"All right, thanks flower. Go back to bed, okay?" James said softly, and Aster looked on mutinously for a moment before stomping back to her room.

"Did something happen to Eustace?" James asked harshly, his tone brooking no nonsense.

"No, nothing has happened to Eustace. But something _has_ happened. Get Lily, she needs to hear this."

James frowned from his side of the mirror but wordlessly entered the bedroom. Lily was on their bed, reading a novel with a pair of muggle reading glasses on, and wasn't that a surprise to Minerva; she'd never known that Lily needed reading glasses until after Aster was born.

Lily looked up from her book with a curious expression on her face. Her cheeks were pink and her breathing was somewhat ragged and Minerva knew what the woman was feeling in an instant. She cleared her throat loudly from her side of the mirror and James snickered at Lily's startled expression.

"Lily, I don't care what you do with James but please wait until I have hung up my line."

Lily turned pink again, this time in embarrassment and put her novel, which Minerva noted as something called _Karma Sutra_ away and beckoned James forward. He took his place next to her on the bed and held the mirror so that Minerva could see the pair of them.

"What's this about, Min?" Lily asked, clearly worried. "Is it Eustace?"

Minerva shook her head, "It's not Eustace, though James was worried about that too."

"Of course I worried," James said quickly. "He's the boy I raised!"

Minerva felt a small wince at his choice of words. Clearly his sense of tact from Hogwarts hadn't completely left him over the years.

"And that," Minerva said, licking her lips as she spoke. "Is what I called you about."

"But you just said it wasn't Eustace." James said bewildered.

"It's not, it's about your son."

"What are you on about?" James asked, and Lily looked wide eyed as she came to a conclusion that Minerva knew to be right. If it wasn't about one son it had to be the other.

"It's about Harry."

James was gaping with an open mouth and Lily took over the conversation, "Is there a lead?"

"…He's the newest Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor."

* * *

Harry was awoken by the sun shining past the curtains of his room and Hedwig lapping at his face. He tried to fight the wolf off, but he was too tired and she could far stronger than he was when the moment called for it.

It was a shame that she viewed waking him up one of those few moments.

He had to shift into his Lycan form to fight her off, and it turned into an impromptu wrestling match at some point. Hedwig was able to roll Harry off the bed, and falling onto the cold stone floors of Hogwarts was quite different when compared to his carpeted room in Chateau Flamel or the warm wood floored room he used in the Snaecave. With a groan Harry righted himself, returned to his normal form and began a series of pushups. It was something he started doing when he began living with the Flamel's at eleven. _"A strong mind begets a strong body,"_ Nicolas would say, and while he was a fairly rotund man he would kick Harry's arse to the curb on a regular basis. It was only when the man began to feel the effects of aging did Harry win a bout with him, and it felt so cheap that Harry rejected the victory.

Harry completed his morning routine quickly and made his way to his washroom. Hogwarts Professor all had their own washroom, while students had shared washrooms based on House, grade and gender. Harry couldn't help but pity the Hufflepuff first year boy's, Pomona was bragging quite openly about her _nineteen_ new badgers when she was bringing him to his quarters, thirteen of which were boys.

Harry didn't much feel like eating his breakfast with his staff, not when he had a castle to look over and his nerves about teaching were quickly making themselves apparent. After showering and brushing his teeth, Harry called for an elf; Pomona mentioned they would be happy to be of service so long as he asked.

An elf popped into the room as he put on a pair of boxers.

"Krakun be called by Mister Potters?"

Harry nodded, focusing his attention on putting on a pair of jeans over looking at the elf. "I'd like to eat my meal in my room today, could you bring me some eggs and bacon and about ten large uncooked sausages for Hedwig?"

"Krakun can be doing that!" the elf said excitedly, and popped away not a moment later. Harry barely had the chance to put on his shirt, a simple grey long sleeve, before the elf returned with a pair of platters. One was handed to Harry and the other was put on the ground next to Hedwig.

"Is that all you be needings, Mister Potters?" Krakun asked, his wide blue eyes staring at Harry as if he were the most important person in the world.

"Uh, yeah. Could you show me where my classroom is? After I eat, that is. Oh, and since I won't be in the Great Hall for breakfast, could you get me my schedule?"

"Of course, Mister Potters!" Krakun exclaimed, "Just calls for Krakun and he come!"

The excitable elf then popped away, and Harry focused on his meal. It was actually very good, not that Harry expected anything less from Hogwarts. Hedwig didn't seem to care about taste; she just attacked her sausages like she'd never eaten before.

It was a quick meal, Hedwig never cared about eating slowly and Harry just wanted to hurry and adjust his classroom to his specifications. He called Krakun once more, and once the elf brought the plates back to the kitchen to be cleaned he showed Harry, who was followed by Hedwig, to the Defense classroom.

It was a square room on the second floor without a single window and lit purely by a set of torches on the corners of the room. There was a large blackboard and a bucket of chalk up at the front along with a smattering of wooden chairs and desks for students to sit at; Harry had his own desk in the far corner of the room. Harry found it to be far too dull of a room and set to change that. He pulled out his wand, thirteen inches of Elder wood and phoenix feather, and thought. How would he change the room?

A small smile came to Harry. He knew what he would do, and he would make it a part of the lesson for his first class; Pomona mentioned that the first class of the year would always be a double period, meaning he had the students an extra hour.

* * *

Hermione Granger was a girl on a mission. That mission was finding out everything she could about Harry Potter; though she knew that from now on he was to be called Professor Potter.

After the announcement of _who_ the new Defense Professor was, Hermione knew that she would be stuck on this subject for a while. He was the older brother of her best friend and _slight_ crush Eustace Potter, and had been missing for thirteen years. Eustace told her and Neville what he knew of his brother and why they'd been separated when he was just an infant. Hermione didn't know _why_ Voldemort was hunting people that were born in July, nor did Eustace though he admitted being quite cross at his parents for not telling him, but Hermione understood the need to keep targets away from each other; Eustace and Professor Potter were born only a day from each other after all.

Hearing that he was mistreated was saddening, and hearing that he left in a fit of accidental magic got Hermione's head thinking. Accidental magic only came out in fits of stress, like when she summoned a book from the top shelf at the age of eight and then had to have the talk because it turned out it was some of her mums erotica; _that_ was a disturbing conversation. But her personal fits of accidental magic aside, to _apparate_ away from his house meant that he felt that if he was there something terrible would happen.

Hermione didn't know what that was, and while she wouldn't pry, she would not deny her curiosity.

Luckily, the first class for the fifth year Hufflepuff's and Ravenclaw's was a Double Defense period, meaning she would have the opportunity to study the mystery that was Harry Potter in detail. Eustace was trying his best to find a way to skip, but Hermione wouldn't have it.

"If you skip you'll still have to go to his class _eventually_. And that means that Professor Potter will have even more reason not to like you." Hermione pointed out bluntly as they walked towards the Defense classroom.

"I bet I could take my Defense OWL and get at least an E without the class." Eustace pouted, but Hermione knew he was just saying that for the sake of arguing. It was a bad habit of his, one that could be both cute and ridiculously frustrating; luckily for him, in this case it was cute.

"And I'm sure your parents will be delighted if you miss this chance." Hermione said as sweetly as she could, and she couldn't help but grin as Eustace let out a cringe. She remembered his boggart back in third year, how it turned into Lily and James Potter going on and on how they wished they had given up Eustace instead of Harry; he was terrified of disappointing his parents. It was a low blow on her part, but she felt he needed to understand that this didn't just involve him; it involved his parents too.

Neville piped up from the rear, Hannah Abbot at his side. "Think of it like pulling out a splinter, it hurts at first but once it's over with then you're fine." The pair had become quite close since the Yule Ball from last year, and Hermione didn't doubt that they'd be seen together in an upcoming Hogsmeade weekend; though she refused to partake in one of the bets the Weasley Twins had going on the subject of their relationship.

Hermione couldn't help but shake her head, amused. Neville had never been too great at cheering people up, but his random comments were able to get Eustace out of his funk for reasons she would never be able to understand. Even now, she could see Eustace brighten as he mulled over Neville's words.

Hannah whispered something in Neville's ear and grabbed his toosh and the sandy haired boy turned as red as a bloodstain. Hermione knew Hannah was a flirt, how could she not after spending four years with her in the dorms? Still, knowing she was a flirt was one thing, watching her flirt was another; especially with one of her best friends. Hermione hoped the pair would just get together and find somewhere to snog; the sooner they got together the less Hermione had to see this happen.

They made their way to the Defense classroom and saw the whole of the Ravenclaw fifth years outside of the room, looking at the inside in some sort of muted horror. Hermione didn't know what happened, but she didn't doubt she'd find out in a moment.

She peered inside the room and found a horrified squeak escape her lips.

 _The room was destroyed!_

All the desks and chairs that the students from each and every grade used were piled in the middle of some chalk drawn circle. The walls surrounding the blackboard were _gone_ and cool air of the Scottish Highlands encompassed the room; the stones that used to be a part of the wall were piled along with the remains of the chairs and desks.

"What are you lot doing?" came a very distinct voice, and Hermione turned only to see Professor Potter walking towards the room. He was clad in a pair of jeans and a long sleeve and looked as relaxed as he could be; he even had a half-eaten sandwich in hand and a few spare crumbs over his cheeks.

"Somebody's destroyed the room!" cried out Terry Boot.

"I know, that somebody was me." He said, sounding bored. He walked inside the room, stuffing the whole of the half sandwich inside his mouth, and wordlessly, since Hermione doubted he could talk with his mouth so full, beckoned the class inside.

It took a moment for everybody to get in, and both Eustace and Neville looked quite happy to see the ruins of the class.

"D'you think that we'll be having a free period?" Eustace asked Neville, his eyes wide and hopeful.

"Might be, mate." Neville said, keeping his eyes trained on Hannah's… eyes.

"I think," Professor Potter cut in, swallowing the last bits of his sandwich. "That it's best if you two stop talking."

He walked to the blackboard and began to write. "My name is Harry Potter, you will refer to me as Professor Potter, PP or, when outside of school, Harry. I am you Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher for this year."

He put the chalk down, and Hermione saw the he wrote is name and three words.

Ordinary Wizarding Levels

"This year is your fifth year, which means you will be taking your OWLs. I do not know what you experience is with this class, but I won't let anybody claim that I didn't prepare you."

He looked over the class and spoke clearly, "Now." He said, summoning a piece of parchment from his desk, the _only_ desk that wasn't destroyed Hermione bitterly noted. "Defense Against the Dark Arts is in actuality the combination of multiple subjects of study. Charms, Dueling, Care for Magical Creatures, and, believe it or not, Potions. There are other subjects of course, but these are what you will be tested on when you take your OWLs."

Hermione dearly wished she had a desk to take notes on, this was the first time _any_ Hogwarts teacher had made mention of what was likely to be tested on their OWLs.

"When it comes to Defense Against the Dark Arts, never let it be said that there is only one way to use it. Defense means to defend, and not every form of defense works against certain people, creatures and poisons. Take for example the Boggart, you all know that the spell Ridikulous works well on them, but did you know that they are extremely weak to fire? A strong Incendio will force the Boggart back into its hiding spot."

Hermione hadn't the slightest clue about that, when Professor Black taught Defense in her third year he only mentioned the Ridikulous spell.

"At the same time," Professor Potter continued. "There are certain creatures and spells that can only be defended against in one way. Dementors, for example, cannot be hurt; the only thing that can stop them is a Patronus Charm. This year I hope to teach you that spell, I know for a fact that if you are successfully able to cast one that it will result in high bonus points in both your DADA and Charms OWLs."

He moved from the blackboard, put the piece of parchment on the floor and knelt to the circle that the classroom rubble was sat in.

"When it comes to humans, there are various ways to defend oneself. People such as Filius Flitwick and Severus Snape prefer dueling, whereas people such as Minerva McGonagall and Pomona Sprout prefer Transfiguration."

Hermione had no clue that Professor Sprout was able to use Transfiguration in any way aside from the fact that she _had_ to have used it to pass her OWLs and NEWTs. What a poor Badger she was if she didn't know something so basic about her head of house.

"Then there are people like Albus Dumbledore. Prodigies at multiple types of magic and clever enough to combine them for devastating results. He is a Master of Transfiguration, as well as Charms and Potions, and outside of that has a Journeyman's status in Alchemy. His preferred form of combat is to control the battlefield using Transfiguration and Charms, and when he has the chance to _choose_ the field he litters in in Alchemic array's."

He pointed at the circle the rubble was at, "This is a basic array. I am an Apprentice level Alchemist, which means I am officially still in learning. I came here to take a test from Dumbledore to become a Journeyman, which gives me the legal right to take an Apprentice of my own, should I want one."

"Now," he said, looking over the students of the room. "Since this is my favorite subject, how much do you know about Alchemy?"

"Well there's the Philosopher's Stone." Boot said, looking much less horrified at the destroyed room and now was staring curiously at the circle.

"Yes," Professor Potter said blandly, a hint of sarcasm in his voice that made Boot turn pink. "There is the Philosopher's Stone. It existed and now it doesn't. That doesn't tell me what _you_ know about Alchemy. What is it, what can it do, why is it still relevant?"

Hermione wished she could answer, she truly did. But the only time she'd ever studied Alchemy was in her first year, when she, Eustace and Neville were looking up Nicolas Flamel.

"Alchemy is the art of changing matter. Turning one thing into another. You might think that is what Transfiguration is, but you must remember that they are based on different origins. Transfiguration is temporary."

He the slammed his hands down on the circle. It let out a crackle of electricity, like a small volley of lightning bolts, and the rubble began to _change._ The stone from the walls turned into lavish and detailed desks, the wood turned into large extravagant chairs and benches and the left over was turned to dust that then turned into two large sheets of see-through glass. The light died down and Professor Potter levitated the two sheets of glass to the sides of the blackboard and they fit perfectly into place.

"Alchemy is permanent."

Hermione felt the warmth of the torches waft through the room, replacing the cool of the outside air.

"This is one part of Alchemy known as Transmutation, and it is a _very_ basic showing of what Transmutation can do. As the course continues, I will give examples of what else can be achieved using Alchemy, and how it can be used in Defense Against the Dark Arts."

He looked at everybody, and everybody had their attention firmly held on their new professor. Hermione hadn't seen Alchemy used before, but she was going to study like she'd never had before in order to understand what Professor Potter just did.

"Now take your seats, and if you have any questions raise your hand."

Hermione took a bench, Eustace taking the spot next to her, and she immediately raised her hand. Neville tried to sit next to Hannah, but that spot got taken by Susan Bones, so he found his place with Anthony Goldstein.

Professor Potter looked at Hermione, "Yes Miss…"

"Granger, sir." She noticed his look darken a tad, and felt small all of a sudden. "I just wanted to know if you'll be teaching us any Alchemy. It sounds really interesting." The whole of the class gave agreements in the forms of nodding heads and grunts, Padma Patil was the most vocal with her "Yeah!"

Professor Potter shook his head, "I'm still an Apprentice; I'm not _allowed_ to teach anybody Alchemy. Sure I could, but then if I got caught by the ICW I wouldn't be allowed to take my Journeyman's. Alchemy is among the most dangerous and regulated magic in the world. This is not a warning to be careful when doing your own self study of the art. This. Is. A. _Fact._ If I hear so much as a _whisper_ of anybody at this school learning Alchemy without my or Albus' permission, I will personally recommend you be removed from Hogwarts."

Hermione paled at the thought of being removed from Hogwarts for trying to learn something.

Eustace, loveable bullhead he was, spoke up. "But _why_ is it so bad?"

Professor Potter exhaled deeply, "Because Alchemy caused the deaths of an entire _country_ and over fifteen thousand magicals in a single instant."

He looked over the room, noting the white faces around, and spoke grimly, "I won't tell the tale, it's meant for teacher and student in Alchemy anyways, but if you're curious look up the word Keilali in your leisure; it's the name of the country _._ Note that you've never heard of it; officially it never existed. I cannot emphasize it enough but Alchemy is _dangerous_ ; there is more to it than wand movements and intent. Alchemy is the art of changing something into something else, all the while using the same properties of what was originally changed. Say I had a brick of stone and wanted to turn it into food; I couldn't. But, if I had a piece of bread and wanted it to be cooked? Easy. There are very direct laws involved in Alchemy that must be followed to the letter."

Hermione felt her stomach not, but made the decision to look up Keilali. It sounded fascinating, and understanding what _shouldn't_ be done was infinitely better than buggering about; not that she would say it like that, she was a well-bred girl after all.

"Do you understand?" When the class nodded and walked to his desk. He dug through the drawers of the wood until he held his own copy of the textbook aloft. "Good, then pull out your textbooks and popcorn read the chapters."

He looked at their blank stares and sighed, "One person reads until I tell them to stop, then the person next to them reads and this continues until the chapter is done."

The class nodded and all pulled out their books. Professor Potter idly pointed at Susan Bones, and the red haired Hufflepuff stood up, cleared her throat and attempted to speak.

Attempt being the key word, as the moment she began to talk the door to the classroom was slammed open. The class all turned as one towards the disruption.

Hedwig stood as regal as she could. Her fur was mottled in spots of dirt, but what was most peculiar was the creature in her jaws. A lynx was held by the scruff of its neck by Hedwig, and the big cat looked ready to kill.

Hedwig dropped the Lynx and padded over to Professor Potter. He idly scratched at her chin, looking at the lynx with a confused air about him.

And then the lynx changed.

From it came a person Hermione would recognize in an instant. The cream skin, red hair and green eyes of Lily Potter was something she was very familiar with. Hermione stole a glance at Eustace and saw him looking quite flabbergasted, as well as embarrassed; Neville wasn't helping with his muffled chuckles.

Lily Potter righted herself from the ground, her appearance was ruffled but then again she _was_ carried in the jaws of a dire wolf. She looked around the room and her face turned pink. She then stole a look at the front and sucked in her breath.

Hermione stole one last glance at Professor Potter and knew that, no, this was not going to be something she wanted to watch.

He was looking absolutely _murderous._

* * *

 **A/N: That was easier to write than I thought it would be.**

 **This was a basic POV chapter that went over McGonagall's, Harry's and Hermione's perspectives. Hermione had the big chunk of it this time because she was in the position of a student where she got a first had look at Harry teaching, and while I intended to give Harry more screen time, I realized that the way I wrote this it'd be best to let it build up to that point.**

 **On the topic of Harry's accent. He was born in England and raised on the Isle of Man, which has a surprisingly large amount of people that can speak Gaelic, and the Flamel's who are, obviously, French. Harry cannot speak Gaelic, and while he knows enough French to get by it wasn't a priority in his education.**

 **Hermione seems a lot more agreeable, doesn't she? This is an AU, as in it's not cannon. In this AU, Hermione is a badger, meaning her core values are quite different. She's a lot more loose and accepting than she was in cannon.**

 **So, yes. Alchemy. The skill will take heavy influence from the Anime series Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood. It's my favorite anime of all time (I have a tattoo of the oroboros on my left shoulder blade). While it'll take heavy influence, it won't be the same; Alchemy in the anime is a science and this is all about magic. It'll be quite similar though.**

 **Now, here's the deal. Harry doesn't hate the Potters, he's primarily neutral with them, but when his** _ **mother**_ **gate crashes his first day at work he's gunna be damned pissed. So yes, that's where the ending came from.  
**

 **If you liked this, makes sure to Favorite/Follow and don't forget to Review!**


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